


A Coffee Shop called Camelot

by Casstea



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, coffee shop AU, serious crossover fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casstea/pseuds/Casstea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a coffee shop in London, just off Oxford Street and about a 10 minute walk from Oxford Circus, called Camelot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Coffee Shop called Camelot

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock/James Bond/Avengers/Merlin/Narnia/HP/Any recognizable references to Fandoms that are in this. This is written for fun and not for profit.

There is a coffee shop in London, just off Oxford Street and about a 10 minute walk from Oxford Circus, called Camelot.

It was named after the ancient Kingdom, although the only similarities the coffee shop had to the old Kingdom was the logo of the castle on its sign. Each morning (apart from when it rains), the owners of Camelot Coffee House place the chairs and table outside, hang out the awning over the street, and place the merrily decorated chalk board just outside the door.

As it’s Christmas Eve, and there is snow on the ground (one of the rare times in the UK that the snow has laid), this morning the chairs and tables are nestled into the snow. Yes it’s cold outside, but the owners know that some of the customers would still like to sit outside, their hands wrapped around the warm tea as the cold air bites as their cheeks. The Christmas lights dim in the morning sunlight, no longer silhouetted against the dark night sky. A few flakes fall still, drifting lazily through the cold winter air, falling on the two figures who are wrapped up warm with their scarfs covering their chins. They dash into the shop about an hour before it opens, to help the owners set up for their day’s business.

There is tinsel placed around the edges of the frosty windows, just visible from underneath the condensation where the water in the air met the glass. A few Christmas lights flickered inside, illuminating the enchanted snow which fell from the ceiling, disappearing just above the heads of the occupants. The day has just begun, the morning of Christmas Eve has started, and we join our story just as the sign flips on the door from  _closed_  to  _open_.

x-x-x

“Merlin,”

Merlin turned from where he had just flipped the sign over on the front of the door to see Arthur peering at the till with a confused face.

“What?” Merlin replied.

“It won’t work!” Arthur cried.

“Is it plugged in?” called Gwen’s voice from the kitchen.

“Of course,” Arthur called back, as he continued to prod it uncertainly.

“Have you,” Merlin answered, crossing the shop and straining out a few of the chairs as he passed, “checked it’s switched on?”

Arthur glared at Merlin, his hand reaching around the back of the machine to find the switch that turned the till on.

“Had definitely thought of that,” Arthur said, as Merlin slunk around the counter and slid his arms around him.

“Of course you had,” Merlin said, putting his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be sorting the rest of the shop out?” Morgana commented, as she weaved pass the two of them to place the newly baked cakes Gwen had made that morning.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Arthur said, “Who is going to come in toda-”

He stopped mid-sentence as a group of men stumbled into the café, stamping the snow off their feet as they walked in. Merlin smiled as he recognised the faces that appeared from underneath the layers of clothing which they were wrapped up in.

“Bloody hell it’s cold outside,” Gwaine said. Merlin rolled his eyes as he disentangled himself from Arthur and started up the machines which Gwaine had dubbed ‘The Glorious Caffeine Producer Of Happiness’.

“Gwaine, it’s winter, of course it’s cold,” Elyan remarked as he shrugged his coat off. Behind him, Leon, Mordred, and Lancelot all shuffled into the warm café, stamping their feet as well to remove the snow. Mordred gave Merlin an apologetic grin at the state of the floor, but a flash of golden eyes on the part of the knight and the snow disappeared.

“Do you have coffee?” Gwaine continued, weaving his way between the tables and resting lazily on the counter.

“Are you only concerned about caffeine?” Arthur asked, just as Merlin handed over a cup of freshly brewed coffee to Gwaine.

“Fuel,” Merlin remarked, as the others begun to shuffle forward towards the desk. Mordred put a bottle of wine on the side as he came up to the counter.

“From the Oakenshield Team,” Mordred explained, “they gave it to us last session when you couldn’t make it.”

“That’s nice of them,” Merlin said, while Arthur glowered.

“Oh it’s not your fault you were ill,” Merlin chided.

“Was to,” Gwaine said, “he’s got a bad immune system.”

“Be quiet Gwaine,” Leon remarked, as Lancelot punched the knight in the arm, “anyway, what’s on offer?”

As Arthur dealt with his friends’ orders (after all, they were the other members of his rugby club) as he ducked into the kitchen to give a hand to Gwen and Morgana.

“How you doing?” Merlin asked, shuffling around the small table, “do you need any help-”

He paused as Gwen slid a tray of freshly baked muffins from the ovens. She saw his hungry glance, as she put the tray onto the table in the middle of the kitchen, before kicking the door of the oven back up with her heel.

“No,” Gwen said sternly, slapping Merlin’s hand away. He gave her his best puppy dog eyes, as she sighed, handing one of the warm cakes over to Merlin.

“One,  _only_ ,” Gwen said, giving him a dark look, as Merlin took a large bite. The delicious taste of Gwen’s masterful cooking melted in his mouth, as he gave her a thumbs up to show his approval.

“No more,” Gwen remarked, as Morgana bustled back into the kitchen, eyeing Merlin as he quickly finished off his cake.

“Don’t eat it all,” Morgana said, as she helped Gwen pile the cakes onto the stands to put at the front, “they’re won’t be any left for anyone else.”

x-x-x

By mid-morning, the coffee shop was already filling up, with people out on their morning jaunts through London on the cold Christmas Eve. The seats outside had been taken by an elderly lady and what seemed to be her grandchildren. Merlin hadn’t caught their names, but the elderly lady had been called Susan, and the youngest girl was Lucy. Merlin thought that the two boys had been called Peter and Edward, or Paul and Edmund, or something like that. Then in the corner were two small families, a father with messy black hair and glasses sat next to his red-headed wife with their three children. Opposite them sat the other family, a man who had striking family features to the first red headed wife, with his wife and their two red-headed children.

And, of course, the dull aura around them that told Merlin they were witches and wizards respectively.

“Oi,” Morgana said, elbowing Merlin out of his observations of the coffee shop’s customers, “get to work.”

“Indeed, m’lady,” Merlin joked, as Morgana rolled her eyes. Merlin’s eyes flashed gold for a second, cleaning the coffee machines in an instant.

He wasn’t supposed to do too much magic (not after the Ministry of Magic had decreed otherwise) but it was Christmas Eve after all. And if Mordred was able to do magic to tidy up the shop floor he was able to perform a small spell to clean up the coffee machines (which were a considerable pain to attempt otherwise).

“You’re not supposed to do that,” Arthur whispered in Merlin’s ear as he shuffled past Merlin to get out two cakes for the customers he was currently serving (a man in who Merlin guessed to be in his later sixties with another man who seemed to be in later forties). Neither of them had an aura around them, although there was a faint blur around the edges of their bodies. Probably another set of time travellers. They were rare, but Merlin had seen them come in on occasion.

“Didn’t your Dads say they would be coming in later?” Merlin asked Arthur, as the two gentlemen he was serving went to the corner of the café to sit down.

“Yes,” Arthur sighed, not sounding too pleased.

“They’re not that bad,” Merlin said, “nothing got broken last time.”

“Mainly because Clint stopped Dad from shouting too loudly when he won at the pinball machine,”

“Yes, because we need world superheroes stopping  _Iron Man_ , from shouting the place down after getting the high score,” Merlin replied. After that incident, Arthur had removed the pinball machine, and his other Dad had stern words to prevent another spectacle. Which Merlin had found highly amusing (as had Arthur’s Uncle Clint who had been snickering with him) and the image of Captain America telling off Iron Man in a small London coffee shop would stay with him for life.

“They’ll be fine,” Arthur continued, elbowing Merlin as two people came into the shop, “it’s your friend.”

Merlin smiled at the two men who had just entered, both of the men stamping off the snow on their shoes. One of them was tall and strongly built, with a face and stance that told Merlin he had seen trouble. The other, Merlin’s old friend from University, was as skinny as Merlin with a mop of messy black hair and a pair of black glasses balancing on the end of his nose. He also had a pair of hazel wings which shook slightly to get the snow off them.

Nobody was supposed to look at the wings (it was, after all, considered impolite to stare at an Angel’s wings) but Merlin noticed the youngest children from the small family of wizards sitting in the corner widen his eyes in wonder.

“Quentin,” Merlin said, embracing the Angel in a warm hug, “I thought you weren’t coming today.

“Got time off,” Quentin replied, with a smile, “I’ve got to introduce you to James,”

The taller blond man turned around at the mention of his name. Merlin couldn’t see an aura around him, so he was just a human. But then, Arthur fell into the ‘just a human’ category, so Merlin guessed there was much more to this man that Quentin knew about if he was dating him.

“Lovely to meet you,” James said, proffering his hand. Merlin shook it warmly.

“Merlin,” he replied, glancing back towards Quentin, “now what do you two want?”

“I’ve got to pay-” Quentin started.

“Oh please,” Merlin said, stopping Quentin from Conjuring his wallet, “not for and old friend.”

In five minutes, both men had their respective drinks (an Earl Grey tea for Quentin and a straight black coffee for James) Merlin sat down next to Quentin with a serious stare. The Angel shuffled his wings at Merlin’s glance.

“How was it?”

“What?” Quentin replied.

“The ‘Holiday to Greece?’” Merlin asked, “come on I translated those runes for your employer I want to know if they were helpful or not.”

James grunted, taking another swig of coffee.

“I would much prefer it if the terrorists didn’t try to resurrect the dead,” he said, “but the worked well thank you.”

“You still didn’t bring back your gun,” Quentin huffed.

“Even with my returning charm I put on it?” Merlin questioned.

“Even with that,” Quentin said, “my boyfriend seems to have an innate talent in losing stuff he’s supposed to  _keep safe.”_

“Apart from you,” James replied quickly.

Quentin rolled his eyes.

“Have you heard much from John?” Merlin asked. He was one of the other angels he knew through his work as a freelance magic interpreter. It had been a memorable time, working on a case for Sherlock Holmes, but at least the consulting detective’s Guardian Angel, John, wasn’t so rude.

“Still out in China,” Quentin said, “following up one of their lines of inquiry,”

“Merlin!” Arthur barked from the other side of the shop. Merlin rolled his eyes as he slid out from his seat to see Arthur mouthing obscene words at the cash register.

“It’s not working again,” Arthur complained.

“Have you hit it?” Morgana asked, peering over Arthur’s shoulder.

“Yes,”

“That probably didn’t help,” the dark haired woman remarked, “you probably broke it’s insides. Again.”

“My father made this machine,” Arthur said, “it’s hardly going to break because I hit it. I think it’s because of the amount of magic users we have coming through here, he hasn’t been able to make the technology fuse with the background radiation of magic properly.”

“You pressed it off again,” Merlin said, pointing to the power switch.

“No I didn’t-” Arthur begun, as he turned slowly to where his rugby team mates were huddled around one of the tables. Gwaine gave Arthur a mischievous grin.

“Gwaine’s an idiot,” Arthur remarked.

“I think that’s a little harsh,” Merlin said, pushing the button back to the  _on_  side again, “after all he did offer to wash up later,”

Arthur’s eyes lit up with a look that said  _payback time_ , as Merlin shook his head at his partner.

Silly Reincarnated Kings.

x-x-x

“I wonder what it would be like if there was no magic in the world,” Arthur commented, leaning against the railing of the balcony. The cool night air brushed against them as it whispered past, picking up a few of the snow flakes from the rooftops as it went past. The city glittered below them, Christmas lights dancing in the black backdrop, joined by the headlights of cars and taxis which whizzed by. Office lights flickered off as people went home late in the evening, joining the throng of people who flowed through the streets, each heading towards their own home. From this height, Merlin couldn’t pick out the individual fairies and angels, or the witches and wizards, as they joined with the regular humans as they walked along the streets.

“It certainly wouldn’t be as interesting,” Merlin remarked, leaning on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Well we made it,” Arthur remarked.

“The wheel weaves as the wheel wills,” Merlin commented, as Arthur looped his arm around the other man. There was a still peace, as snow continued to fall from the clouds above, drifting down into Merlin and Arthur’s hair. In the dark night sky, the silhouettes of some of the Dragons which flew through the skies could be seen as they crossed the full moon which beamed down from above, their leathery wings stretched wide. The hum of the city drew quieter, the car horns and engine rumbles diminishing after the large crescendo of the rush hour.

They stood there, King and Wizard arm in arm, watching the snow fall from the sky, until Big Ben chimed out across the night twelve chimes.

Midnight.

Christmas Day.


End file.
